Comfort
by xPorcelain Lolitax
Summary: Sequel to Patience and Impatience. After their first kiss, Castiel notices that Dean has started avoiding him. He assumes Dean is upset with him, so he attempts to bring him some pie to comfort him and hopefully apologize for whatever he has done wrong.


Comfort

Castiel was well aware of Dean's love of pie. It took some time before Castiel found out why he loved the desert so much. To Dean, pie was like sex, or alcohol, or the Impala. It was sentimental, and it was comfort. For a moment, as Castiel stood in an aisle of a convenience store, he felt a tiny pang of jealousy towards the pie he was holding. He knew Dean would be comforted by this object he held in his hands. He knew the pie could do it, probably better than he ever could. And oh, how he wished he could. He wished he could be like pie to Dean and give him comfort. But as it was now, the best he could do was actually get him the pie.

Dean knew how Castiel felt by now. He had kissed him once, up against a wall in a crappy motel room; not the most romantic of kisses. But he did, and Dean seemed to enjoy it. Or so Castiel thought. Dean hasn't spoken about the incident. Even though before Castiel left Dean had pulled him in for another kiss, since that day the two have not experienced a change in their relationship. In fact, Dean seemed to avoid Castiel a little. Even Sam noticed it, asking if everything was all right. Castiel wasn't able to answer him, then, as he was not sure himself if everything was all right.

The only explanation was that Dean was upset with Castiel. Maybe it was something else, or maybe it was the kiss. Whatever it was, Castiel had to fix it right away. He wasn't sure pie would do it. Maybe Dean would be more upset that he was trying to use pie against him. Then again, it might work like a charm. Castiel debated whether he should first give him the pie or say he's sorry for whatever he did. Sometimes, he had a hard time communicating with Dean in words. But since Dean has been _physically _avoiding him, never getting too close to him or hiding behind Sam, Castiel wasn't sure how he could physically communicate his feelings. Dean wouldn't even stand still long enough for them to have one of their little gazing contests. And Dean kept _insisting_ that Sam stayed with them, or that he'd go with him, or anything just to make sure he's with Sam at all times, and never alone with Castiel. At first, Castiel thought that maybe something was wrong with Sam. But a few days spent silently following the brothers proved otherwise.

So, when Castiel appeared in the brothers' motel room, he was surprised to find Dean alone. He wasn't expected, that was obvious. It was even more obvious by the utter look of panic on Dean's face.

"Cas," Dean said, staring at him from his position at the small table. It was really nice and sunny outside but the blinds in the room were closed. Castiel glanced at the window, then walked over to it to pull the blinds away. He turned back to Dean, who was looking down at the table, where a half-empty bottle of whiskey stood next to a mostly empty glass.

"I didn't call for you," Dean stated, glancing up at Castiel carefully as he stepped closer and set the plastic bag on the table.

"I know," he replied. Dean looked from the bag to Castiel, then shifted his sight back towards the table.

"So, uh, why are you here?" Dean asked carefully.

"To 'make-up'," Castiel said. Dean tilted his head to the side.

"What?"

"You are avoiding me," Castiel began. Dean sighed and began to shake his head. "I assume it is because of what I did the other day," he continued as Dean shook his head more and looked away. "Therefore I had come with pie to apologize."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, Cas," Dean said. He was turned away from Castiel, with one elbow on the back of the chair. He placed a hand over his mouth, then ran it down across his entire face. Castiel looked confused, squinting his eyes at nothing in particular.

"But you are angry with me –"

"Cas, no – "

"Therefore I must have done something wrong. That's why the pie," Castiel pushed the bag towards Dean. "I thought it would comfort you. Because I know you like pie."

"Shut up about the pie!" Dean cried, pushing the plastic bag away from him, making it fall to the ground. Castiel was truly bewildered now. If pie couldn't make Dean not be angry with him anymore, then what could? Castiel stood behind Dean, a look of utter hopelessness on his face.

"Dean, I apologize," he said quietly.

"No, Cas, listen," Dean turned his head to the side. "It's not about you, it's," he paused. Dean looked down at his hands in his lap. "Well, this sounds lame and cheesy, but it's me. You didn't do anything wrong. I did." Well, now Castiel was truly beyond bewilderment.

"But Dean, I don't remember you doing anything that would make anyone angry, other than most of the demons and creatures you've met and slaughtered," he said. Dean pressed his lips tightly together, then stood up, slowly walking towards the center of the room. He looked at Castiel, then walked towards the little kitchenette, where he leaned down on the counter.

"Cas, it's complicated. I just," he paused again, staring down at the counter.

"You can tell me, Dean," Castiel encouraged. Whatever Dean was going to say seemed to physically weigh down on him as he leaned more heavily on the counter. It seemed like he really needed the support, and Castiel wasn't sure if he should go over to him and help.

"I feel lame admitting this. I'm not really a talking about my feelings kind of guy," Dean admitted quietly. "But, I mean, what do we have? What are we?" Dean turned tired eyes toward Castiel, who stood there by the squished pie.

"We're family," Castiel answered with slight hesitation. Dean smiled, then turned back to the counter, nodding his head a little.

"Yeah, family. But there's something else there, isn't it?"

"Dean, please tell me what's on your mind," Castiel begged, taking a few steps towards Dean. The hunter looked up, then, as if he felt he was in immediate danger, backed away from Castiel quickly and walked towards the other end of the room. He covered his mouth again, staring ahead at the bright windows.

"It's just," he turned around, pointing a finger in the air, "every, every single person I ever loved got hurt or killed. Everyone either leaves me," he paused, taking in a shallow breath, almost like a hiccup, "or dies. Everyone. Anyone I get close to just disappears from my life. It's only a matter of time before you leave or die," Dean said, motioning to Castiel with his whole arm. Castiel looked down at himself then back up at Dean.

"Dean, I had died for you twice already," he stated calmly. Dean released a sound somewhere between a whine and a sigh.

"Yeah, see? You already got hurt. But one day it will be permanent. You'll die and you won't come back. Or you'll realize I'm a terrible piece of shit that doesn't deserve friends or love, that keeps hurting people and putting them in danger, and you'll leave me. And then what?" Dean turned to Castiel, and the angel could clearly see the beginning of tears forming in his eyes. "Then what?" he asked again. "If I get any closer to you, when you die, what will I become? A mess. A mess like Dad became when Mom died. A mess worse than the mess I am now. If that's even possible," Dean looked up at the ceiling, turning away from Castiel again. He paced around the room slowly, his hands idly moving around each other. He stopped in front of a wall, staring at the other side of the room, where he could see Castiel's shadow.

"Dean," Castiel began, taking a step towards him.

"Don't," Dean warned. Castiel sighed, then continued walking towards him. Dean quickly turned away and walked over to one of the beds, where he sat down, placing his hands in his lap. He stared down at them, ignoring Castiel when he called his name again.

"Just leave now, before I," Dean didn't finish his sentence. He looked up at Castiel. "Before I," he tried again, but somehow he couldn't get the words to come out.

"Dean," Castiel bent down a little and grabbed one of Dean's hands. Dean allowed the action, but refused to look Castiel in the eyes as the angel knelt down in front of him.

"Dean, I know you will not believe me if I say that it is not your fault people you love get hurt. I know you will not believe me if I say that I will always be here for you," Castiel paused, waiting for Dean to look at him.

"And I know you dislike speaking about how you feel. So let me speak about how _I_ feel." Castiel let go of Dean's hand and clasped both of his around his face.

"I will always try to find my way back to you. I will, for as long as I live, try to be useful to you." Dean looked away, or tired to, before Castiel gently pulled his face back towards him.

"That's the problem. If you stay by my side, I'll hurt you." Castiel titled his head to the side.

"Dean, if I stay by your side I might _get_ hurt, but I know _you_ will not hurt me." Dean finally looked Castiel in the eyes. They continued to look at each other for a long moment, before Castiel moved forward and gently brushed his lips against Dean's. As Castiel pulled away slowly, he opened his eyes and saw that Dean still had his closed. He couldn't help but pull Dean in by the shoulders and hug him, holding onto him tightly.

"C-Cas, I can't breathe," Dean grunted, patting Castiel on the back. The angel released him, then suddenly disappeared. Dean jumped up from the bed, looking around the room. Then he jumped again when Castiel materialized in front of him, holding another plastic bag.

"I still wanted to gift you the pie."


End file.
